Paddling the Bay

It takes a certain amount of self-delusion to undertake any sort of epic human-powered journey.

Or at least it does for me. Because if I had really thought with common sense and logic about about the kayak paddle from Marinette to Egg Harbor, I likely would have -- should have, perhaps -- dismissed the idea.

But when Mike Clark, a fellow wooden kayak enthusiast posted on Facebook his intent to do the trip, and called on other paddlers to join him, most of my sense of reality took its leave.

All I could think about was how, while living in Marinette, I would stand on the shore and gaze over at Door County. I'd watch speed boats zoom back and forth, and I began to dream about owning a boat of my own. I would leave Marinette, the fantasy went, go over to to Egg Harbor or Fish Creek or whatever, eat lunch, and come back.

This goal never took a hard hold until I built my own wooden kayak. This boat is terrific to paddle, and I found I could easily go two, three miles with little effort. I took it on a four-day camping/paddling trip at Voyageur's National Park in northern Minnesota and the boat handled fantastically on rough water. "Wow," I thought, "this would be great to take over to Door County."

I am married, however. Kris told me she would worry herself sick if I attempted a crossing alone, and I respected that perspective. It IS dangerous to make such a crossing, and even though I would have tried it if I was single, it would be a foolhardy to do it on your own, especially as a relatively inexperienced paddler like myself.

I tried to find people to go with, but was unsuccessful. I made half-hearted attempts to line up a boater to escort me, ditto. So I let it go.

That's why Mike's post grabbed my attention. I would do it, I told myself, despite the fact that I hadn't wet a paddle in two years. It'll come back to me, I told myself. I'll just do it.

An experienced kayaker warned me off. "I'm not telling you not to go," he said. "But that's a serious crossing. And unlike a 100-mile bike ride, you can't just get off and walk."

I understood that. But I just had such a belief in myself and my strength and even my skills, that I knew I could do it.

In the end I was right. It was a perfect day for paddling, but there were some rolling waves we had to deal with on our five-hour crossing. It took a lot more out of me than I expected. My forearms began to burn and ache and shriek, and today, a day after the paddle, I can barely grab a coffee cup.

But the passion for paddling and my boat is back. I would go out for a jaunt on the river today if my body would let me. I hope to do more paddling adventures, and I vow to be better prepared and in shape for them. And I still would like to reach just beyond my grasp.